Mercy
by Skelegirl
Summary: Then there came a knife. A knife that shivered in her hand, reflecting the sun. Now, the girl was brought up with a rich paintings and comfy pillows, but she was so lonely and sad and just wanted to be under the ground like her mother, so she played with the nice knife.


**Okay guys, a little creep, a little bloody, but it's- Nevermind. Just reveiw and tell me what you tink about it, okay? I need to know if i'm doing alright, or should just go to a insane asylum. Oh yes, Flora (the girl) is 15 in this fic.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. don't own it.**

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Once upon a time there was a girl.

A girl who was (happy) content.

Then there came a knife. A knife that shivered in her hand, reflecting (the blood and gristle we are trained not to see) the sun. Now, the girl was brought up with a rich paintings and comfy pillows, but she was so lonely and sad and just wanted to be under the ground like her mother, so she played with the nice knife. It sliced through leaves and fabric, and (finally) her skin.

_He stalks, she walks_  
_Down the same Road_  
_She starts, he stops_  
_Her all alone_

But playing with the knife was against her mentor's rules. Kindly he removed the knife, bandaged her cuts, and let her out to play alone. And she was lonely! The boy was no help, he was in the stage were playing with girls was (icky) ungentlemanly. How she wished to grab the knife, and slice _gentle_ and _man _apart.

Then they would see what a _gentle_ girl could be. Then, dinner was called by the housekeeper and the little girl had to go inside. It was warm and not windy at all but she still felt cold. Even with all the layers holding her bones in place, the wind still wormed their way around her hipbones and ribcages.

_6 feet under_  
_Screaming his name_  
_He laid mercy_  
_In her grave_

Dinner was fine, until 600 calories wormed up her spine the man and the boy had to dash out because if they didn't someone was going to die. The housekeep left, and she was alone again with the knife, shiny in its holder.

The knife whispered to her, drawing her close like to a wanted lover. She wanted it's venom. It slid out of the holder with a whisper. Holding it, it vibrated with the shaking of her hand. Slowly, but surely, the girl lifted it to her heart (ghost with a heartbeat) and let it poke against it.

A whimper escaped her lips. Did she want this to happen? Did she want to be free? Be Dangerous? Yes. But did she want to feel the venom of life passing through her lips, gasps and groans of pain dying in her throat? ..No.

_And when her heart_  
_Stopped beating_  
_And she stopped breathing_  
_That's when he felt most alive_  
_Speak your_  
_Last words_

The girl wanted to experiance things. Like her first kiss, child, car, holding hands, but it might be too late. She failed her mother, her father, failed not eating, and failed friendship.

She could still save herself, but the girl wanted to fall. Pressing the knife deeper into where her heart should be, the girl felt the fabric protecting her skin ripped. her rib cage nudged to knife as if saying _please, harder, all of it, now, _and the glinting metal was getting harder to resist.

_She'll rise, they'll die_  
_She's ready and willing_  
_Death in disguise_  
_A mercy killing_

Blood bloomed after she pressed a little more. It didn't hurt, more like a pleasent sting, a lover's kiss of what would soon become. The girl whimpered as part of her wanted to reach the phone. To dial h.e.l.p (4319, in number-words) and actually_ get help_.

But other part didn't want it. Biting her lip, the girl edged the knife into her heart, feeling it tick like a bomb. She can't stop. The ending won't hurt the man, and the boy, and the housekeeper, and anyone else that cares until she slumps to the ground.

_And when the heart's stop beating_  
_And they stopped breathing_  
_That's when she feels the most alive_  
_When she stalks her pretty_

* * *

The man was sad to see his daughter in the hospital, but happy to know that the housekeeper saved her. Knife's are sharp, you know. He say by her bedside for (what seemed) ever. The only time he say up was when the doctor came in, carrying the girl's results.

It turned out that the girl's heart had to be fixed up (we nearly needed a donar), and actually had to have a laparoscopy. You see, the girl had endometriosis, and that was when the lining of her uterus ventured into places it shouldn't have, like her stomach, and her ovaries.

The man had known that she had been suffering through depression. He had tried to help, but all she would do was turn him away. And now, his little girl, his little adoptee, could be dying. He put his head in his hands and for the first time since the woman died, cried.

_And when I start feeding_  
_Mercy you are pleading_  
_That's when I feel the most alive_  
_Murder is this beautiful girl_  
_And I don't give a damn_  
_About your last words_

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**So, yes this is messed up, and I can't believe I wrote this. Review at your own risk. I think i'll stop writing this now..**


End file.
